


The Guy in 6B

by civillove



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-27 20:57:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1722293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/civillove/pseuds/civillove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt (from andercriss’ list): live from across each other’s hallways au</p><p> </p><p>A fluttering warmth travels from his chest into his belly, a smile tugging at the ends of his mouth because Blaine's not sure if he would have been able to get through this without him.What’s great about his growing relationship with Sebastian is that he doesn’t have to hide his nuances and pretend he’s someone that he’s not. He can simply just…be himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Guy in 6B

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blainedarling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blainedarling/gifts).



> Notes: some themes are taken from the movie ‘What’s Your Number’ but you don’t need to know of or see the movie to read this aauaua  
> To Suzey, my Oscar, my best friend. I love you like Blaine loves cronuts and Sebastian. Happy birthday

As long as Blaine can remember, he’s always wanted to live in a big city.

When he was little he had pictures of New York on the walls of his room, one plastered over the other—taller than life buildings that seemed to breathe and move with the city. A vitality of lights and sound, of big hopes and even bigger dreams. Anything seemed better than where he had grown up and while Lima, Ohio had its quaint small town quirks, Blaine’s always felt like he just…doesn’t quite belong.

And while he plans his life out around getting into NYADA for photography, measures out where and when and who he’s going to be thirty years, he doesn’t count on one thing: _not_ getting into the school of his dreams.

So they deflate like a popped balloon as he convinces himself that his second choice, the Art Institute of Pittsburgh, is just fine.

Except it’s not fine at all because Pittsburgh is _not_ New York. 

Blaine talks himself out of having a mental breakdown at age seventeen because one thing doesn’t work out, because this is what always happens. He gets ahead of himself and plans and plans and then _one_ aspect falters, throws him off balance. Makes him feel like a bottle without a cap in the middle of the ocean, water spilling in and filling him up until he just…sinks.

So he makes a new plan. He’ll go through one year of school in Pittsburgh and keep trying for NYADA. If, no _when,_ he gets in he can figure out how to transfer the credits over. It’s perfect, it’s well thought out and he knows if he just keeps trying he’ll get in, _someone_ will recognize his talent and enthusiasm. _Someone._

Except one year turns into two, and two turns into three, and three borders on his fourth year when he just gives up.

Why keep trying for a school that doesn’t want him? Why waste his talent and energy and effort on a lost cause? Pittsburgh accepted him right off the back, and even though it’s not New York…Blaine’s come to love the city’s little nuances that sort of etch their way into his skin and never let go.

The Steel City is submerged in art thanks to the city’s cultural district, so it’s not difficult finding inspiration for his photography. The thirty skyscrapers and 446 bridges has helped him narrow down his passion, honing in on his intuitive love for architectural design. It’s the home to Heinz ketchup, Pittsburghese, hoagies, Phipps Conservatory, the National Aviary, Carnegie Mellon and Andy Warhol.

It’s not New York City, but the longer Blaine lives here, the more his body is treated like a canvas, the city’s brushstrokes in wide ranges of intense color and texture replacing white. But it seems, ironically, the minute he finds himself settling in one area of his life something else erupts.

“I just think we’re too different, you know?”

Blaine stares at his boyfriend, well actually his _ex_ from what he’s gathering with this conversation, of two years. “I’m sorry. What?”

Kurt sighs, puts his hands on Blaine’s, like the sensation of them touching will somehow drill what he’s saying into his brain. “We’re just really going in different directions. I want to be on Broadway and you…”

He glances towards the right of the room, where Blaine has a bunch of his photography matted on different sized photo-boards, exposures covering the walls and strips of film piling up on his desk along with his cameras.

“Have your art…” Kurt trails off, his voice not exactly hiding his disapproval. He knows what Kurt thinks about his photography, knows that he considers it a waste of time and energy, unless of course, he _wants_ to be some sort of starving artist.

There’s this disconnect with Kurt that he’s never really spoken to him about before; that it’s okay for Kurt to pursue his dreams in becoming a Broadway hit because it’s practical, because if he’s good at it he can make a living off of doing something he loves. But it’s like there’s this wall when it comes to what Blaine loves, because his photography can’t offer him the same kind of assured comfort. Although that doesn’t mean he’s going to stop something he’s passionate about any time soon.

He’d have to work hard and make the right connections, but he could do it, if he really wants it.

And he does.

Kurt doesn’t get that, he doesn’t even try. So while they connect on many levels, they get along and the sex is great, Blaine even dares to say that they might love one another—it’s not working out as well as they had started. The beginning of the end of college is just bringing it all to the forefront.

Hence why Kurt is breaking up with him in the middle of his apartment.

Blaine thinks that maybe he should have seen it coming; Kurt’s been distant, spending more time with his friends and in his own apartment, less time with him. They’ve both been busy, but he’s been cold and argumentative. They get into more fights than they make up for.

So it’s sort of a relief when Kurt says they should go separate ways, even though it’s like a knife in his stomach too.

“Can’t we even talk about this?” Blaine asks as Kurt stands from the couch, making his way towards the bedroom to collect some of his things.

“Blaine, there’s really nothing to talk about.” He picks up a bag from Blaine’s closet and stuffs some of his things inside of it; sweaters and shoes, odds and end knick knacks on the dresser and moisturizers from the bathroom.

Of course not, of course there was nothing to talk about because then that would mean that they were actually trying to work _through_ something by being honest with one another. No, Blaine decides, they’d rather just pretend that they don’t need to talk, that it wouldn’t matter if they did.

“I don’t understand how having different passions is enough to end a relationship,” Blaine argues, even though he has a feeling it’s falling on deaf ears. He follows Kurt to the front door, grabs his arm even as he walks through and starts to leave down the hall. “Aren’t you and I worth giving everything we’ve got?”

He tries, at least one more time, because he knows if he doesn’t do everything he can to salvage this relationship that he’ll regret it in the end.

Even if Kurt isn’t willing to do anything.

“Blaine,” He says gently, as if speaking to a child. “If we give our everything we won’t have anything left.” He whispers, and that’s all Blaine needs to hear to let him go.

There’s an empty feeling inside of him as he watches Kurt move down the hall and down the steps, not even turning back a moment to glance at him. He’s never felt like more of an afterthought as he does in this moment, like his entire ribcage is being ripped out through his skin.

He sighs, runs a hand over his face, talks himself through the next few moments and convinces himself he’ll be fine. Just like he always is.

Blaine moves to head back into his apartment, pausing in his doorframe as the door opens across from him and a taller, lean yet lanky guy saunters out. He pauses, eyes ticking over the toned muscles of his arms and the freckles in his skin. Something spurs up inside of Blaine’s chest, dips into his belly and flutters throughout his bloodstream; he suddenly falls in love with the lines and colors of this guy’s body because—hasn’t he mentioned?

He comes out of his apartment pretty much completely naked.

Blaine’s mouth falls open as he notices he’s holding what looks like a dish towel to his crotch to cover his cock, and he’s eating an apple with his other hand. He bends down to pick up the newspaper and he doesn’t know whether he wants to turn away or keep staring. It’s like a fucking car crash when his neighbor looks up and goddamn _smirks_ at him.

“Hey, morning.”

“Sebastian!” Someone calls out from inside the apartment, a girl’s voice, Blaine notices—somewhere between looking away from the other tenant and walking into his doorjamb. “Come on, get back in here.”

“You know,” Sebastian says, “I actually think this is yours.” He waves the newspaper in his direction, the arts and leisure section catching his eye and moves to hand it to him.

“Keep it,” He squeaks, giving him a shy smile as blush stains his cheeks. The taller pauses, seemingly noticing Blaine’s uneasiness, a slow grin tugging at the ends of his mouth. “It’s alright, keep it.”

He chuckles. “How neighborly of you.” He winks. “Alright, 6B, see you around.”

Blaine forces his jaw up off the floor as Sebastian backs right up into his apartment and closes the door, his eyes staring at the 6C nailed into the wood. He runs a hand over his face as he turns back into his own apartment, successfully running into the doorframe and making his shoulder numb.

Ironically he’s lived across from Sebastian for the past two years and this is the longest conversation he’s had with him.

And Blaine tries his hardest (and ignores _that_ pun) not to think about how he’s glad he was practically naked for it.

000

Kurt doesn’t keep in touch like he says he will, though, Blaine’s not sure if he should be surprised or not. He told him that they could (of course) still be friends, that that wouldn’t change in the slightest. But it’s been a week since their breakup and Blaine’s sent at least three texts to check in or to ask when he’s picking up the rest of his stuff and nothing.

Zip.

Zilch.

He gets used to it, not talking to him. It’s not like Blaine doesn’t have friends he can lean on, a brother who constantly tells him not to be a doormat for Kurt Hummel and a neighbor who randomly keeps ‘stopping by’ for odds and ends things in his kitchen.

So when he hears a knock on the door, his eyes flutter up from his photography album and he sighs; waits.

“I know you’re in there, 6B.” Sebastian says, muffled a bit behind the wood.

“No I’m not.” He mutters to himself, but stands anyways and goes to get the door because otherwise he’s going to have to continue this conversation for the next five minutes. “Listen Sebastian, I’m sort of busy—”

Sebastian passes him and slides into his apartment, at least he’s fully clothed this time—though Blaine isn’t quite sure whether he’s more relieved or disappointed by that fact, and grins at him over his shoulder.

“Come on, if we didn’t spend this quality time together it wouldn’t give you the opportunity to miss me.” He wanders into Blaine’s kitchen, getting a mug out of his cupboard and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“No, by all means, go right ahead.” He says wryly, waving his hand in his direction. “Why is it that you find yourself in my place around ten AM almost every other day.”

“Maybe I broke my coffee machine.” Sebastian muses, pouring milk into his mug. “Or maybe I enjoy your warm and fuzzy personality.”

Blaine flicks him off and goes to sit on his stool at his desk, ignoring his uninvited houseguest to write down another idea in his photography album. He has a few major projects coming up for his classes and he wants to be able to keep ideas open.

“Who took all these?” He nearly jumps out of his skin as Sebastian stands behind him, looking over his shoulder at the many photos littered on and around his desk of all sizes.

Mostly he’s been trying to photograph the bridges Pittsburgh is known for. There’s this little gallery on Wood Street that he’s been trying to get into for some time but…he’s never exactly had what they’re looking for.

“I did.” Blaine swallows, trying to ignore the way he can feel the heat of Sebastian’s body pressing into his back, tries not to think about how he’s definitely seen him practically naked before.

How he wants to follow the lines and dips of his skin, how he’s never photographed a person before but wants to when he thinks about him.

“No shit.” Sebastian muses, Blaine squeaking the stool backwards to get up and away from his desk. He’s starting to feel smothered by how close the other is standing, and he’s not sure whether he should be afraid that it doesn’t bother him as much as it should.

“Shit.” Blaine concurs, smiling back at him as Sebastian picks up a photo of the Andy Warhol Bridge.

“You know, these are good. You could totally get into a gallery somewhere.”

Blaine snorts, rolling his eyes as he goes to open his door to get the newspaper. “Yeah, tell every gallery in the Burgh that.”

He bends down to get the newspaper off his welcome mat, pausing as Sebastian’s door across the hall nearly opens at the same time. His eyebrows quirk at the half naked gorgeous guy stepping out, half asleep, giving him a small wave as he holds a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Morning.”

“Uh…” Blaine glances back into his apartment and clears his throat. “Yeah, morning.” He shifts back inside…to find Sebastian hiding behind his couch.

“Okay,” He throws the newspaper at the cushion of the couch. “Did you think that maybe the half naked guy in your apartment could have fixed your coffee machine?”

“I think he’s having tea.” Sebastian smiles sheepishly, standing up before moving to actually sit on the couch instead of hiding behind it.

Blaine shakes his head, an incredulous laugh building up in his throat as he crosses his arms over his chest. “ _That’s_ what you’re doing in here every other morning, hiding from people you take to bed?”

“Hiding is a very strong word.” Sebastian smirks, taking a sip from his coffee.

“You nearly barricaded yourself behind my couch when I opened the door.”

The taller sighs, pulling his legs up onto the couch to cross them like a pretzel. His legs seem too long for that and Blaine’s eyes do _not_ trace those long lines on the inseam of his jeans before he clears his throat and goes into the kitchen for coffee.

“It’s not the night before I have a problem with; it’s the morning routine that makes me want to vomit.”

“How charming.” Blaine mutters, taking the cream out of the fridge and pouring some into his cup. “Here’s an idea, stop taking people to your bed if you can’t handle the morning after.” 

He doesn’t hear Sebastian get up from the couch but he once again feels the heat of his body press against his back, it somehow encompasses his entire form, hugs him as if his arms were wrapped around his waist.

“Aw, but without these mornings our quality time would be next to none.”

Blaine turns, leans against his counter and looks up at him. “How tragic, and yet I’d probably have more coffee.”

Sebastian smiles softly, sets the coffee mug in his hand down on the island next to Blaine’s, his fingers curling against the edge of the counter. The shorter swallows, his eyes glancing over his lips before clearing his throat, turning his head to the side so he doesn’t do something stupid.

Like kiss his neighbor.

“Your apartment is probably clear by now.”

“Probably.” Sebastian whispers, but doesn’t make any intention like he wants to move.

Blaine can’t say that he’s uncomfortable by Sebastian’s presence, because he’s not; he’s guessing that’s how he gets people so easily into his bed. He’s gorgeous, that’s obvious, but he’s also very charming and somewhat sweet once you get past the snark and the smirks.

“I’m not going to be another notch in your headboard, Sebastian.” He says determinedly, looks up at him with a silent huff that makes Sebastian chuckle.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Killer,” His breath smells like coffee and a mix of mint, probably from his toothpaste. It so does _not_ cause Blaine’s stomach to bottom out. “After all, who’s apartment would I hide out in then?”

He pulls back, the space between them suddenly cold and distant, Blaine can’t decide if he’s pleased or if he misses the warmth that somehow fills his chest when Sebastian’s close.

“Until next time, 6B.” He winks, taking a final sip of his coffee before he goes.

The door echoes closed behind him and Blaine chuckles softly, runs a hand over his face before sighing. He puts ‘extra coffee’ on his grocery list that’s hanging on the fridge.

000

Kurt shows up at his apartment, out of the blue, on that next Tuesday. It’s like all the texts he’d been sending finally registered. But while Blaine was hoping this would be a good opportunity for them to talk, maybe define their…whatever it is that they are as an actual friendship, Kurt’s just as unapproachable as he was when he broke up with him.

He tries asking him about how his classes are going, if he’s made any headway with New York, how their mutual (and now completely on Kurt’s side) friends are and even tries to stir up a conversation about the outfit Kurt’s wearing.

But nothing really works; it’s all soft smiles and short answers, hums as he picks up stray articles of clothing and things he’s left in his apartment.

“Can we just…talk? Please?” Blaine asks as Kurt moves to the front door, box in his arms full of memories that he feels have been reduced down to cold gestures, distance and absence. Like they never really knew eachother at all.

He wonders how long Kurt’s been thinking about breaking up with him because he’s taking it entirely too well.

Kurt sighs, hovers in the open doorway a moment; one foot out of his apartment and one foot in.

“Blaine, please. Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

The tone of his voice cracks one of Blaine’s ribs and no matter how tightly he winds his arms around himself he still feels like he’s breaking in half. He doesn’t _understand_ how two people who care about one another just…end up like strangers.

“I just don’t…understand how you’re so okay with all of this. We were a couple for two years, Kurt and now it’s like we’re not even friends.”

Kurt looks down into the box in his arms before he looks back up at him. Blaine notices that the door across the hall opens and Sebastian walks out, sticking his keys into his pocket before offering him a smile. He manages a small smile in response that he doesn’t feel before looking back at Kurt. He can tell that there are words on his lips that never make it out of his mouth because he notices something behind Blaine’s back.

“Is that…”

Blaine turns, opens and closes his mouth like a goldfish because Kurt’s noticed a few pair of sweatshirts and fuck, is that a _robe_ hanging on his coat rack. Apparently Sebastian has started leaving articles of his clothing near the front door in case he has to duck into his room without a shirt on. Or worse.

“It’s nothing it’s—”

“Another _guy’s_ clothes?” Kurt scoffs, takes a sweatshirt off the rack and waves it at him, Blaine swallows thickly. “You’ve got a lot of nerve Blaine. You stand there and tell me that you want to talk over what happened and you’ve already starting dating another guy.”

He quickly feels like his control is slipping through his fingers as the conversation spirals out of control. He’s caught between feeling upset and _angry_ because where does Kurt get off on giving _him_ a lecture about moving on when he’s the one who broke up with him. When _he’s_ the one who wants nothing to do with him anymore.

Blaine chokes on a noise in his throat; wanting to tell Kurt that he can do whatever the hell he wants with _whoever_ he wants to. Because even though his ex is jumping to conclusions about Sebastian’s clothes the last thing he wants to be in Kurt’s eyes is a love sick loser who can’t get over their breakup instead of someone who’s moving on too fast.

He’s about to say something about it, really he is…except all the words fade from his tongue when he feels Sebastian slip in beside him, his arm wrapped around his waist.

“Is there a problem here?” He asks, eyeing Kurt disapprovingly.

Kurt visibly straightens, his gaze ticking up Sebastian’s body and back down again before he speaks. “No problem, Blaine and I are done here.”

Blaine swallows thickly, suddenly glad for Sebastian’s arm around his waist because his knees are shaking at Kurt’s frosty glare.

“You know, for someone who’s dressed in a _sequin_ covered shirt, you’ve got a lot of balls to come here and tell Blaine who he can and cannot do.”

He’s not sure how long Sebastian stood outside of his own apartment, watching the scene play out between him and Kurt, hovering between leaving to go about his day and helping Blaine out. It must have been long enough, because he’s got the gist in a matter of a sentence.

Kurt looks simply _abhorred_ and Blaine can’t fight the small shiver of thrill working its way down his spine thanks to Sebastian. He’s so angry and disgusted and—is that _hurt_? that Kurt can’t even say anything to him as he turns and leaves his apartment.

“Oh and just so you know,” Sebastian calls after him. “They have surgeries for that now. You know, to remove the pretentious stick from your ass.”

Blaine feels a laugh build up in his chest, it’s stuck somewhere between his sternum and windpipe but it feels wrong, sort of relieved and stunned at the same time. He just doesn’t understand how his relationship with Kurt had unraveled so fast; how does he go from having a loving, supportive boyfriend to him after two years saying, ‘I think we’re on different paths’.

Maybe he’s scared they won’t work out, in the end, because of Blaine’s comfortableness and finality with Pittsburgh and Kurt’s dreams for bigger and brighter New York. He understands those dreams all too well. But he’d never try to break a relationship in half because of them.

He shuffles back into his apartment, Sebastian on his heels, the door closing behind the both of them. He makes a warning noise as Sebastian moves toward the kitchen, presumably to get coffee.

Sebastian rolls his eyes at the sound. “Fine, fine. I won’t drink what you have left in the pot. Touchy.”

Blaine collapses on the couch and runs a hand over his face. He can hear Sebastian moving around his living room until he feels his knees knock into his own, brings his hand away from his eyes to see him sitting on the end of the coffee table.

“I hate to break this to you, but your ex is kind of a prick. Light on the ‘kind of’.”

He tries not to smile, but the way Sebastian tilts his head at him and taps his fingers on his knee makes it difficult.

“He never used to be that way, you know.” Blaine told him gently, leaning further back into the couch cushion. “It’s like he woke up one morning and was a different person. And I wasn’t good enough,” He swallowed, rubbing his arm, trying to distract himself from the way Sebastian is now looking at him.

It’s not pity, he doesn’t feel _sorry_ for him it’s…it’s something else. Something he can’t put his finger on. Empathy, maybe, but he’s not sure. It’s probably better if he doesn’t give whatever it is a name.

He clears his throat, feels a hot blush kiss his cheeks. It feels good and odd at the same time, being able to open up to someone about Kurt. He hasn’t been able to talk about him, about the crumbling of their relationship with anyone. He’s been trying to keep himself busy, ignore it, pretend he’s fine when he’s not.

Or maybe it’s just because out of all the people he considered talking to, Sebastian was the last person he thought would be sitting across from him, listening.

“I uh,” He smiles softly, words getting caught under his tongue. “We were together for two years. Even during the busiest of school semesters we’d make sure to meet for coffee or lunch, take time to talk to one another.” He looks down at his lap, shrugging his one shoulder. “Now I can’t even get him to text me back.”

Sebastian sighs, squeezing Blaine’s knee before pulling his hand back. “A guy is defined by how he breaks up with someone, that’s what my dad used to say.” He looks away, and Blaine leans forward a little on his couch. He can tell that there’s something there, something wounded that Sebastian doesn’t want him to see.

“He could have been a gentleman about it, broken it clean, let you heal. Talk to you like you’re a _person_ instead of discarded luggage.”

Blaine feels the one side of his mouth twitch up in a soft smile, his heart warming to Sebastian’s sentiment. He _doesn’t_ feel the overwhelming urge to kiss him because of their proximity, because of his breath skittering along his arms or the way he smells like coffee and shampoo.

“But in case you were wondering,” That defined smirk works its way back into Sebastian’s tone, “This is exactly why I hide out in your apartment every morning.”

Blaine rolls his eyes, swatting his arm. “What do you know about relationships? The longest one you’ve had is probably with my coffee machine.”

Sebastian grins, standing, “Speaking of.” Blaine sighs and follows Sebastian to his kitchen, accepting the gracious pour from his own coffee supply before the other gets out cream and sugar.

“Oh and by the way, he was acting that way because he still cares about you.”

Blaine snorts, lifting the mug to his lips. Alright, no. He’s not taking relationship advice from someone who has most likely never been in or let alone appreciated one. 

“Right. He’s the one who broke up with me!”

He stares at him a bit incredulously. “Well I never said he was _smart.”_

The shorter smiles softly and shakes his head, gently bumping his hip into Sebastian’s as he takes a sip from his coffee. Sebastian in turn does the same, his eyes gazing curiously at him as he stirs in sugar.

“No,” Blaine says, breaking the silence before Sebastian can speak. He smirks. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

Sebastian grins. “One of these times I’ll get a yes out of you, but that’s not what I was going to say. I’ll make you a deal,” He leans against the counter, facing him. “I’ll help you get over your ex if you let me hide in your apartment when I need to.”

He considers him a moment, glancing down at Sebastian’s hand as it outstretches towards him. It’s not that Blaine needs his help, he’s more curious than anything. He’s not going to deny that Kurt’s left a pretty large hole in his chest, and he’s often wondered just how exactly he’s going to fill it back up.

Sebastian’s proposition is tantalizing, and really, what could it hurt?

“Okay,” He smiles, slides his hand into Sebastian’s and squeezes gently. His palm is warm and his grip is firm. “Deal.”

The taller licks his lips; his thumb dipping over Blaine’s racing pulse point. “Deal.”

000

After a few days, Blaine falls back into the routine of classes and distractions by burying himself in his photography. He takes long trips that involve trekking through the South Side or Oakland and capturing architecture, only pausing long enough for lunch breaks or coffee.

It’s good; it’s fine, it’s just what he needs to keep his mind off everything, off Kurt—until he sees him in the Downtown Starbucks where they always used to meet for coffee. And he’s with another guy. And not just any guy but a _gorgeous,_ tall theater type, someone that Kurt’s been looking for.

Someone to match him.

Blaine stays in his apartment for the next two days, not venturing out for anything or anyone.

He sighs as he starts to wake up in bed on a Saturday morning, or well, afternoon according to his clock. He turns to press his face into his pillow, scratching his fingers through his mismatched curls before deciding he has to get up. Enough moping; time to start all over again.

Blaine pushes the covers back, swings his legs out of bed and groans as his bare feet touch the cool wooden floor and stands. He needs a long hot shower and a large cup of coffee. He gathers his sweatpants into his hands and starts heading to his bathroom, happening a glance through his bedroom door and into his living room—

and nearly jumps out of his skin as he sees Sebastian lying on his couch. He’s dressed at least, in jeans and a t-shirt, and he’s hugging a pillow to his chest. His eyes are closed, but Blaine can tell he’s awake by the quirk of his lips.

“Morning beauty.”

Blaine groans, rolling his eyes before tugging his sweatpants on. He forgets about his shirt, deciding it doesn’t really matter if Sebastian sees him bare-chested at this point.

“What are you doing here?”

Sebastian smirks and opens his eyes. “Always figured you’d be a boxer briefs sort of guy, Anderson.”

Blaine mutters ‘fuck off’ before he wanders out into his living room, heading straight for the kitchen to make some coffee. He finds a fresh pot with a mug beside it and he hates Sebastian a little less for at least having the decency to have some waiting for him.

“I’m waiting for…” He trails off. “Andy? No, _Alice,_ to leave my place. She’s a determined snuggler.” Sebastian sits up and gives a visible shiver, setting the pillow aside.

“So, guy or girl, doesn’t matter to you, hmm.” It’s a statement than an actual question; he’s not exactly concerned with what Sebastian identifies himself as. It’s more like he’s trying to poke fun at his so called ‘predicament’.

He gets off the couch, joining Blaine in the kitchen before hopping up onto the counter.

“What can I say, I’m all equal opportunity when it comes to blowjobs.” Sebastian grins.

Blaine rolls his eyes, shaking his head as a smile graces his lips regardless if he tries to fight it and sticks bread in the toaster.

“You busy today?” Sebastian asks a moment later, his legs swinging gently.

“Why? Need my apartment again at a certain time? Don’t tell me you already have something lined up between leaving Andy—”

“Alice.” Sebastian corrects.

“—and spending the morning on my couch.”

He tries to steal a piece of his toast as it pops out of the toaster but Blaine smacks his hand. “No wiseass, I have something I want to do with you today.”

Blaine pauses in the midst of fishing out his toast, nearly burning the pads of his fingertips. “I don’t know Sebastian.”

While he appreciates and will honor the deal he made with Sebastian either way, he has a distinct sinking feeling that their ideas of getting over Kurt are very different. He’s in no mood for a bar or strip club or a club in general that Sebastian’s probably going to take him to in order to take his mind off his ex-boyfriend.

“Come on,” Sebastian says, a slight whine to his voice, which grabs Blaine’s attention. He smiles at him, all freckles on his cheeks and brightness in his eyes. “Scout’s honor that there will be limited amounts of nudity.”

Blaine can’t help but laugh, running a hand over his face before he takes a deep breath into his lungs and finds himself agreeing.

000

He’s not quite sure where Sebastian is taking him but he doesn’t mind the walk over the yellow Andy Warhol Bridge, the air is warm; spring is in full swing and teasing at hints of summer on the horizon. The sun is hot, big white fluffy clouds scattered across the sky, and before they had left (when they made sure Alice was gone) Sebastian traded in his jeans for shorts so really, the view is great in every sense of the word.

Blaine follows Sebastian’s lead down the side of the bridge, ending up on the walkway of the North Shore Riverfront Park. He hasn’t had time to come down here yet this year, but it’s one of his favorite things about living in Pittsburgh. The park is just across from the city, along the banks of the Allegheny and Ohio Rivers. It stretches from one aspect of the Pittsburgh to another, from the Carnegie Science Center to the Convention Center.

The park is like the collarbone of the city, the three sister bridges the ribcage, connecting the muscled skyscrapers and veined buildings on the other side. The river walk along the park offers an unobstructed view of the cityscape and he can’t help but stare at the other side of the river as he walks with Sebastian, bumping into him every now and then.

He realizes, as they talk, that Blaine doesn’t know much about Sebastian—regardless if they’ve been neighbors for the past few years and he’s seen him practically naked.

“So you want to be a doctor?”

Sebastian shrugs. “A nurse, that’s what area I’ve been studying in anyways at Pitt.”

There’s something there in Sebastian’s voice, something he can’t quite put his finger on. He doesn’t sound happy about a major he’s been involved in for the past three years of his life—but before Blaine can ask him anything about it, he changes the subject.

“I’m guessing Pittsburgh isn’t somewhere that you wanted to end up.”

Blaine smiles softly, rubbing the back of his neck where sweat is starting to pool from the sun. “I wanted to go to NYADA but I couldn’t get in. And I’m talking multiple times. The Art Institute was my second choice.”

Sebastian smiles, turns a little to look at him as he talks. “I think New York City is overrated.”

Blaine laughs, “Says someone who’s _obviously_ never been there.”

They walk past PNC Park, Blaine spotting geese squawking after their babies on patches of grass. Some people are feeding them bread, while others are having picnics, taking lunch breaks or exercising with bikes or running on the riverwalk path.

“I don’t know, eight million is a lot of people to share a city with.”

He smirks as they come to a halt, pausing on the walkway. “And 306 thousand is any easier?” Blaine looks out into the river, sticks his hands in his shorts pockets, gathers his fingers into fists. He takes a deep breath, catching the wind as it grazes off the river.

“I think…all you need is one. Just the right person to share it with.” He looks back at Sebastian, smiles softly at him, the taller watching him with a carefulness.

He looks like he wants to say something, like he’s contemplating words printed on his tongue. Instead he just smiles back, a smirk covering up his true intentions as he tilts his head to something behind him.

“New York doesn’t have these.”

Blaine chuckles as he takes in the [Water Steps](http://pixburghnat.files.wordpress.com/2011/09/0843.jpg), a large interactive fountain with uneven steps and waterfalls of cold, chlorinated water. He’s walked by this place so many times, has seen kids running around and jumping from step to step, splashing one another with water on perfect and hot summer days, has always wanted to just take his shoes off and dip his feet in.

Any time Kurt has been with him, his ex had never really approved of that. Had always scrunched his nose at the scene and was far too worried about getting his clothes wet.

That, of course, doesn’t seem to phase Sebastian one bit. He winks at him as he walks closer to the steps, tugging his shirt up over his head at the same time he’s toeing his shoes off. He throws his shirt at Blaine, the shorter laughing as it hits him in the face and he catches it between his fingers before it can fall to the ground.

“As I promised,” He grins, “Only limited amounts of nudity.”

Blaine stands there a moment, mouth slightly open as Sebastian jumps in with enough force to make not even a foot of water spray upward and hit his back. The droplets glisten against his skin in the sun, following the curves of his body the way Blaine wants to trace with his fingertips.

Envious of water, he’s sunk to a new low.

“While I understand and approve of the ogling, are you going to stand there and stare all day or are you going to come in.”

Blaine smiles as he shakes his head, throwing Sebastian’s shirt aside before discarding his own. He toes off his shoes, takes a breath as he stands on the edge of the fountain and jumps in.

000

Blaine’s having an okay day until he sees Kurt at school.

He has no idea how they end up running into one another, since Kurt’s practically made it his job to avoid him, but nonetheless he bumps quite literally into him as he’s leaving his Photoshop class. And he’s not alone. He’s got that same guy with him, the one he saw him with at Starbucks.

It suddenly all makes sense now.

Of course Kurt would be _that_ guy to pursue someone going to the same school as Blaine. Just so they could bump into one another like this. Just so Blaine could see that Kurt was moving on and attempting happiness without him.

He’s a complete and utter gentleman, introduces himself and plays with small talk and leaves the conversation without a grimace or hint of sadness in his eyes. Really, he’s proud of himself. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Blaine trudges up the stairs to the very top of his apartment complex, sighing as he sees Sebastian waiting for him up top, leaning against the railing.

“Hey good looking.”

Blaine offers a small smile, getting his keys out from his pocket. “Hi. Look, Sebastian, I don’t really feel like heading to the Warhol today…”

“I know, you sounded like a kicked puppy on the phone.” Sebastian follows him to the door, putting his hand on his to still the action of unlocking his door. “Which is why I got pizza.”

He looks over at him with a curious expression and Sebastian smiles, nods his head before motioning towards 6C. He squeezes his hand and loops his finger against his thumb, rubbing gently.

“Come on.” He murmurs and Blaine sighs before nodding, pocketing his keys and following the other into his apartment.

He’s never been in his apartment before, besides the small peeks inside as Sebastian comes and goes. The door was wide open the time Sebastian greeted him with a dishtowel against his cock but needless to say Blaine’s attention hadn’t been focused on the interior design of the other’s apartment.

Its structure is the same as his own but it’s completely different from Blaine’s in every way, if that makes any sense. While his apartment is rather organized except for his desk, Sebastian’s is a mess of paper in some spots, random articles of clothing on his couch and bed and models of the human body for practice on his counter. It’s not that it’s completely uninhabitable, or anything, just a bit messy. Which, as it turns out, is a sign of an articulate mind. And someone who’s great in bed.

He keeps that last one to himself; the last thing Sebastian needs is someone else to stroke his ego.

Or anything else for that matter.

Sebastian must be able to tell that he’s thinking about his apartment based on his facial expressions, a nose scrunch here and crinkled eyebrows there, because he rolls his eyes and motions to the bed.

“If I would have known you’d be judging my apartment space I would have redd up the place before you came in,” He fixes the pillows before taking the corner of the sheets. “Get the other side.”

Blaine smiles fondly at the Pittsburghese and grabs the other end of the sheet. “No you wouldn’t have. Though I guess up-keeping your place is a bit difficult with your attention so fixated on who you’ve got tumbling into your bed.” He teases.

Sebastian smirks. “Organization is not a giant concern when it comes to stumbling into my apartment while tearing off articles of clothing. Lining up my couch with my coffee table is not going to make or break my sex life.”

“Aren’t you afraid of tripping over a shirt or something?” Blaine tugs the sheet up in its place, smoothing his hands over the crinkles.

“Trust me I know where the bed is.” He grins.

Blaine shakes his head, sitting on the bed after it’s made. Sebastian disappears into his kitchen a moment to bring back the box of pizza and some napkins.

“So all you need is to devise a plan to stay out of my apartment in the mornings and you’d be all set.” Blaine says pointedly, a hint of amusement to his tone. Because he’s starting not to mind Sebastian being there in the morning. Or maybe he’s just gotten used to it.

“If you slept over their place it’d be easier, you could just sneak out before they woke up.” He watches him crawl into bed, moving to sit against the headboard, the pizza on his lap. “Are we eating in your bed?”

“Not the first time I’ve had food involved with my bed.” Sebastian says, mostly to himself. It’s thrown out there with such a straight face that Blaine almost asks. Almost.

Blaine moves to sit next to him, opening the pizza box to take out a slice. Their fingers brush as Sebastian hands him a napkin, the taller smiling at him before bumping their shoulders.

“Oh, and for your information,” Sebastian talks around chewing. “It wouldn’t be any easier if I slept over their place instead.” He swallows. “I once stayed with a guy because I fucking slept over his place and there was this…” He trails off, licking his lips. “picture of him as a little boy with his dad on his nightstand, he was dressed up as superman.”

Blaine watches him as he speaks, his eyes tracing the contours of his face. He already knows where this conversation is going, just because he knows what type of person Sebastian is. Or at least who he pretends to be on the surface, that guy who opens up his door with a dishtowel to his cock and hides behind sarcastic remarks and innuendos.

“Every time I went to break up with him I kept picturing that happy little boy dressed up as superman and…” He shrugs. “And I couldn’t.”

“So you just… avoid them completely by waiting until your apartment clears?” Blaine laughs, picking up another slice. “Because _that’s_ healthy.”

Sebastian licks his thumb after he finishes the crust of one of his slices. “It’s easy and I avoid emotional attachment. It’s just sex.”

“To you maybe.”

The conversations stills after that, Sebastian not offering up any other counter arguments to what Blaine’s said. Though he’s not sure whether it’s because he doesn’t have any or because he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore.

As he sets pizza crust down in the box, he notices a corner near the kitchen filled with art supplies. Easels and canvases and tubes of paint, litters of paintbrushes. He tilts his head, naturally gravitating towards the area.

 “I didn’t know you painted.”

Sebastian brushes his hands together before closing the pizza box, clearing his throat as he shifts against the bed. “It’s just a hobby.”

Blaine gets up from the bed and makes his way over to the art corner, tucked away like Sebastian’s trying to hide a part of himself. It’s mostly just brushwork but it’s a gorgeous in its own way, Sebastian experimenting to find his style by working through different Pittsburgh landmarks. Through washes and oil based paints, through strokes of his brush and smudges of his fingers.

He picks up a painting of Point State Park, the focus on the summer sky instead of on the actual fountain. He smiles over his shoulder at Sebastian, “It doesn’t look like just a hobby.”

He puts down the painting before picking another one up, the main street of the Strip District, people from all over converging to one place to shop. He smiles, brushing his finger over a mother with a baby outside one of the stores, the creaking of springs signaling that Sebastian is getting off the bed.

He reaches over his shoulder and taps the corner of the painting he’s holding, making Blaine look up at him.

“You know, these are really good. You could sell these.”

He smirks; taking the canvas Blaine has in his hands and sets it on an empty easel. “I’m not going to be able to support myself selling these things. They’re good, sure, but they’re boring. They won’t sell for shit and I’m not interested in being a starving artist.”

Blaine bites his lip, watching Sebastian walk into the kitchen to get himself a beer out of the fridge. He follows him, takes a bottle from his hand and takes a slow sip, leaning against the counter.

“Kurt’s said sort of same thing to me when we were dating, about how I’m better than becoming that for my art.” He looks down at the countertop, shrugging his shoulder. “I don’t know.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Your photos are _good_ enough Blaine. You wouldn’t be in that ‘starving’ period of your life forever. All you need are the right connections and exposure.”

He feels something thick lodge into his throat and tears sting the back of his eyes as Sebastian says that his photos are good enough, that _he_ as an extension, is good enough. He’s never really had that support before from anyone. Not even his father. He acknowledged that his photos were amazing, of course, like all parents do. But as he grew up he wanted him to pursue something that in the end would make him financially stable. He didn’t believe in him or his talent.

But Sebastian does.

And that makes all the difference in ways he can’t even explain.

“Good enough,” He mumbles. “Kurt didn’t think so.” Okay, so maybe he’s a bit bitter.

“Why are you taking his word for it? Kurt obviously wouldn’t know something good even if it smacked him in the face and burned his sequin tops.”

Blaine snorts as he takes a sip of beer, almost making a mess. Sebastian smirks and hands him a napkin, to which he takes and coughs, laughs filtering out regardless of what he does. The taller seems satisfied that he’s taken that sour look off of Blaine’s face.

He really has to stop putting him on this pedestal or pretend that the Kurt that broke up with him is anything like the guy he had first started dating; he has to stop feeling sorry for himself.

“No,” Blaine says finally, a tinge of a smile still to his lips. “I guess not.”

Sebastian takes a sip of his beer, setting the bottle down on the counter before running his thumb over the label. Blaine glances down at the action, watching the condensation kiss Sebastian’s skin. “Exactly, I mean he let _you_ go didn’t he?”

The thing with Sebastian is, every time he thinks he has him figured out; he says something like _that_ and completely throws him into a complete three-sixty. A fluttering warmth travels from his chest into his belly, a smile tugging at the ends of his mouth because Blaine’s not sure if he would have been able to get through this without him.

What’s great about his growing relationship with Sebastian is that he doesn’t have to hide his nuances and pretend he’s someone that he’s not. He can simply just…be himself.

“Thanks, you know for…” He smiles softly at Sebastian who runs his hand through his short hair. “For getting my mind off Kurt. I really needed it.”

Sebastian scrunches his nose in distaste but there’s something genuine in his eyes, he’s touched by Blaine’s gratitude.

“This mushy muffin crap is not a turn on for me, Anderson.”

Blaine grins and puts his beer down, starts to move towards him with his arms open. “Muffin, huh? I think that’s a good nickname for you.” He teases.

“ _Stop_.” Sebastian laughs, putting his hands up in defense like he might push Blaine away as he gets closer. 

“I think you’d be like…a blueberry one, maybe.” He tells him, stands up on his toes and _hugs_ him. “Besides, I think you sort of like this mushy stuff. No matter what your face says.”

Sebastian tenses as their chests meet, Blaine almost shivering at how he can feel the other _breathe_ against him. Ends that trail of thought right there. He smiles as Sebastian’s arms finally wind around his waist, squeezing him lightly, his head dipping so that his chin almost rests on his shoulder.

The shorter smiles, relaxes into the embrace, opens his mouth to say ‘I told you so’ when he feels Sebastian’s hand slip slowly down his back. Lower and lower until…his open palm falls right to his ass.

“You know, you’re right,” Sebastian whispers, the air grazing his ear and caressing his jaw. He squeezes the right globe of his ass, making Blaine huff. “I think I _do_ like this mushy stuff. So many _exquisite_ benefits.”

He pulls back and smacks his arm as Sebastian pats his ass lightly, innocent grin gracing his lips. Blaine rolls his eyes and leans back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You’re insufferable.”

Sebastian hums to himself, going to the fridge for another beer. “I thought I was blueberry.” Blaine smirks and takes another bottle as it’s handed to him. “By the way, if I’m blueberry, you’d definitely be a chocolate chip one. With an ass like that, you’d have to be downright sinful.”

The comparison catches him off guard and Blaine laughs, loud, sounds echoing against the walls and ceiling. It makes Sebastian smile to watch him, that light that inherently encompasses Blaine vibrating with the highest frequency as he laughs, infecting everything with its warmth.

Sebastian ignores a pointed fluttering behind his sternum as he takes a sip of his beer. And Blaine forgets all about his awful day.

000

Blaine’s stomach flip flops as Sebastian guides him into what sounds like an elevator, his guesses rewarded with the familiar sounds of gears and cranks starting up when a button is pressed. He has no idea what his hallway neighbor has in store for him tonight, all he knows is that he was forced to put a blindfold on the minute they left their apartment complex.

And it’s been twenty minutes.

While he enjoys surprises, he’s starting to feel a bit anxious.

“Stop squirming.” Sebastian chuckles. “We’re almost there.”

Blaine huffs but enjoys how the taller allows him to lean against his side until the elevator stops on a floor. He memorizes Sebastian’s strong hands as they squeeze his shoulders to encourage him forward, the pressure staying with him long after his palms slip down his arms.

“Okay, I want you to keep an open mind.” Sebastian whispers, the air kissing his earlobe, sending shivers directly down his spine.

He swallows, clearing his throat, blushing as his voice squeaks a little before he can correct it. “Oh God. Just please tell me we’re not at one of those fancy clubs in the Strip District.”

Sebastian smirks. “I’ll put it on the list of ideas for next time.”

He tugs the blindfold off without warning him, Blaine blinking a few moments as his eyes adjust to the sudden onslaught of light. He recognizes the space almost immediately, of course, the Wood Street Gallery. It was nice of Sebastian to take him here, he’s been meaning to come and see one of the visiting artists…but he can’t stop thinking about, okay, why the blindfold?

That is, until he sees it.

It takes him a moment, his mouth forming a question before all the air leaves his lungs like it’s been kicked out of him. Because on the far wall of the visiting artists section is his series of Pittsburgh bridges.

All ten photos that he’d had so far, neatly mapped out across the red wall, his name in bold black letters next to the frames. He almost doesn’t believe it, slowly walks toward the photos like he might need to touch one of them to make it real.

“How…did you…” He trails off, words not connecting from his brain to his mouth. He’s been trying to get into this gallery for _months_ to no avail.

“Well you _have_ been letting me in and out of your apartment unsupervised.” He can hear the grin in Sebastian’s voice, even though he’s behind him.

He had been so caught up with school and getting over Kurt that he hadn’t even noticed his photos going missing, granted there _had_ been a large series of piles mismatched on and next to his desk. But still. He grins at them as they rest against the wall, people in the gallery filtering in every so often beside them to glance at his work with curious eyes and soft smiles.

Blaine turns and looks at him, laughing out a sound that can only convey how happy he really is. “I mean, the gallery, how did the gallery let you set them up? I’ve been trying to get in here for months.”

“Oh, I slept with a girl who works here; she does this _amazing_ thing with her tongue…” He trails off, grinning at Blaine’s wide eyes. He nudges him playfully, “I’m _kidding_ , my dad is friends with the owner.”

The shorter shakes his head but he can’t lessen the touched smile on his face even if he wanted to. “I can’t believe you did this for me. _Thank_ you, Sebastian.”

Sebastian smiles, sticks his hands in his pockets as he rocks back onto his heels. He looks over at Blaine’s photographs and shrugs his shoulder. “I told you that your photos were good enough; the only person left to believe that was you.”

The warm feeling that’s been thrumming gently behind Blaine’s ribcage at this whole display suddenly explodes into his ribs, shooting through his system and filling up his entire body. His feet move on their own accord and he pushes himself up on his toes to press his lips against Sebastian’s.

It only takes Sebastian a moment to adjust, his arms snaking down around Blaine’s waist, their lips moving with a natural fluency that seems rehearsed. They just fit. He tilts his head as Sebastian’s hand cups the side of his face; his tongue stays in his mouth but the kiss is oddly intimate. Like they’ve done this a million times before.

He pulls back after a moment to breathe, pecking Sebastian’s lips again because he can, and the taller smiles.

“You sure know how to thank a guy, Anderson.”

Blaine pulls back and rubs the blush on his cheeks, laughing softly before walking towards the wall, talking to a few people who have hovered in front of his work.

000

The walk back to their apartment complex is quiet but it’s not uncomfortable. He prefers it compared to the walk to the Wood Street Gallery because he doesn’t have to suffer thanks to a blindfold. Not to mention Sebastian’s given him his jacket to protect him against the bursts of chilly air coming in off the river.

He unlocks his apartment, Sebastian hovering behind him, waiting to make sure he gets in safely—or because he doesn’t want the night to end yet. Blaine doesn’t blame him and smiles softly as he pushes the door open and cocks his head to the left.

“Want to come in? Have a cup of coffee?”

Sebastian smiles. “Sure,” He walks inside, shuts the door. “I think this is the first time I was actually invited to have a cup of your coffee.”

“Oh you mean instead of just helping yourself?” Blaine chuckles as he heads into the kitchen, toeing his shoes off. “Imagine that.”

Sebastian mimics his actions, following Blaine into the kitchen. There’s an air of domesticity to them as he gets out the cream and sugar, the shorter retrieving mugs for their coffee. They’ve done it so many times, this routine when Blaine wakes up and finds Sebastian just _there;_ it hugs around their bodies like a warm silence.

“So…” Sebastian hesitates, like he’s not sure he wants to continue or not. Blaine nearly has a heart attack within the pregnant pause, because he’s quite certain what the other is going to bring up. “Do you usually thank people with kisses, I’m just curious.”

Blaine flushes, shakes his head as he dips his chin to avoid Sebastian’s gaze. “I uh,” He laughs nervously, “no, I hadn’t planned that or anything. And even if I had, you’re not my type.” He tries to joke, to get the attention off himself.

Sebastian grins. “Please, I’m everyone’s type.”

He still can’t quite believe that he had kissed Sebastian in the middle of Wood Street Gallery, someone that he doesn’t know as well as he probably should. But part of him feels like it’d be easy to let himself slip, to lose himself in how Sebastian makes him feel. It’s comfortable in a way he can’t describe, comfortable and suffocating and so many other things all at once. And he’s scared, because he wants to rush into and hide from it at the same time.

“Fine, then I’m definitely not yours.” Blaine says conversationally, though he has no idea why _that_ comes out of his mouth. He realizes it’s because he’s curious, he wants to know what Sebastian looks for if anything at all.

Sebastian smirks, stops himself mid-action from picking up one of the coffee mugs. “I don’t have a type, but if I did, you’d be it.” He flirts, making Blaine laugh. His eyebrows quirk, moving slowly towards Blaine with every stressed syllable, his tongue hugging his words.

“What, is that really so hard to believe? You’re talented, gorgeous, kind, thoughtful,” He says, his voice getting softer as they get closer. Blaine doesn’t back up as Sebastian takes steps into his space, allows the heat of his body to press against his own, sharing the same oxygen. “I think you might have a fetish for standing on top of furniture but…”

Blaine lets out a breathy laugh, somewhere caught between a smirk and a scoff, his cheeks kissing pink.

Sebastian smiles, his hand coming up slowly to swipe his thumb over his cheekbone. “You’re gorgeous.” He whispers.

He swallows thickly, his heart beating wildly in his ribcage to the point where he’s afraid the other can hear it. “You said that already”

“I meant it.”

The blush seeps down his neck, blotching his skin. He clears his throat and looks away from Sebastian’s tantalizing green eyes, rubbing the back of his neck. “You uh, should probably get going. It’s late. Here.”

Blaine starts taking off his jacket, the material still resting over his shoulders. It’s a bit big on him, but he likes that, he likes that it practically hugs his form and that he has to roll up the sleeves to free his hands. He likes that Sebastian’s taller than him, that he has to look up at him sometimes to talk, that he had to stand on his toes to kiss him in the gallery.

As he disturbs the fabric, wafts of his cologne and skin greet his nose and seep into his very pores, like it’s becoming a part of him.

“No keep it.” Sebastian says quickly. “I’ll have an excuse then to come see you tomorrow.” He runs his hands over his shoulders and down his arms.

Blaine swallows, his eyes zeroing in on Sebastian’s lips as the taller takes a step closer, bends down so that their lips graze. “You’ll…be here stealing my coffee anyways…” He mumbles, trailing off, the space between them practically nonexistent.

Sebastian cups Blaine’s face again, and he lets him, his thumb trailing over his lower lip before gently pressing. A soft moan leaves his mouth without his permission, tasting the salt from other’s skin. That seems to be the only thing Sebastian needs before his lips are on his.

There’s a hungriness and passion fizzling between the both of them as their lips move, tongues sneaking out of mouths to run and tangle together, their bodies moving towards the bedroom in slow stumbled movements. He lets out a short gasp as Sebastian lifts him up, his legs automatically wrapping around his waist as he backs them up into the bed, setting him down. He kisses his neck, letting his tongue run over a vein that’s beating a mile a minute with his heartbeat.

Sebastian moans as Blaine arches his hips up, their hardening cocks grazing even through the mess of fabric. “Are you sure you want to do this.” His breathing is irregular, hands on either side of Blaine’s head, gathering the bedspread and tugging like that’ll help him control himself if he has to stop.

Blaine leans up and nips at Sebastian’s lower lip, giving him a smile. “Stop asking me questions and roll us over,” He tugs at his shirt. “Take this off.”

He smirks, muttering ‘cheeky shit’ before rolling them over. He straddles his thighs and swaying down on principle, making a freight train of heat spin throughout Blaine’s body.

His fingers grip the bottom of his t-shirt to tug it off—“Wait,” Blaine says and lets his hand linger on his right one, the other’s eyes fall to hazel ones in confusion. “Go slower.”

Sebastian smiles softly, nodding his head before following Blaine’s order. His hand slowly reaches down his chest and plays with the material of his t-shirt before making a show of tugging it off. Blaine’s eyes trace over his skin, leaning up to kiss at his collarbone, following the strong line with his lips. Sebastian works his jacket off of him, tugging it aside, slides his hands up and under his shirt to feel the skin of his back.

Blaine shudders, Sebastian smiling into his curls, his hands moving down the taller’s waist to grab onto his hipbones. He rolls their hips together, his palm cupping him through the front of his jeans. A short breath speckles into Blaine’s hair, Sebastian’s fingers digging into his lower back.

“Can you guess what I’m going to tell you to take off next?” Blaine smirks against his skin and Sebastian chuckles before lying him down against the bed.

He slides up his body and kisses his lips, fingers lingering at the waistband of his shorts. “You first.”

Sebastian hums as he snakes down Blaine’s body, lips leaving a small trail of kisses against his sternum before he undoes his shorts, tugging them down with his boxer briefs. The cool air of his apartment makes him shiver, Sebastian moaning at the sight of him, already half hard, head red as it drips with precum. He throws his clothes aside, spreading his legs to kiss the inside of his thighs.

“I’m fairly certain, in terms of blowjobs, you won’t need to tell me what to do.” He smirks, glancing up at Blaine who is watching him intently, eyes wide and blown black. Blaine groans and shifts his hips down, his hand sneaking down between his legs to rub the head of his cock.

Sebastian’s lips sink down into the soft skin of his inner thigh, sucking a hickey, rubbing his thumb over the purplish mark. Blaine’s cock jerks at the sensation, his back arching slightly before the other presses his hips back down onto the bed.

His mouth closes around the head of Blaine’s cock, the heat from his tongue nearly sending him spiraling.

“Fuck, Sebastian.” Blaine moans, his hand sliding through the strands of his hair, rolling his hips down towards his mouth as he sucks him off. Sebastian’s right, his mouth is practically _sinful_ , he doesn’t need any help with direction…but that doesn’t mean he won’t tease him anyways.

“You know, actually,” Blaine tugs on his hair. “Just…a bit lower.” Sebastian pulls back and gives him a look, to which the shorter chuckles. “Just kidding.”

He shakes his head and leans up to kiss him quickly, swiping the grin right off of his lips by taking him deep. Blaine gasps, pulling on his hair, _hard_ but Sebastian doesn’t seem fazed by it. In fact, it only seems to encourage him to continue sucking, his tongue tracing the vein of his cock, his hand undoing his jeans and sliding inside to give himself some much needed friction.

Blaine can feel himself getting close, but luckily he doesn’t have to focus on forming the words because one harsh tug to his hair and Sebastian stops. He pulls back with a pop and licks his lips, smiling at him as he sits up and tugs his own bottoms off. His eyes graze over his body, his hands reaching out to trace the colors of his skin appreciatively.

He tugs Sebastian over his body, hissing as they haphazardly line up, a mess of limbs and dry heat as their cocks run together. He groans, opening his legs to accommodate Sebastian and groaning into his mouth as they move in waves against his mattress.

Their lips graze, they breathe in the same air, it’s more just the touch of their mouths and swallowing one another’s moans rather than kissing. But he enjoys it all the same.

Blaine reaches back at one point, into his nightstand drawer, pulls out a condom and runs his hand down Sebastian’s back. He kisses him gently, the taller humming against his lower lip before leaning up and taking the condom.

His eyebrows quirk before showing him the condom wrapper. “Raspberry flavored, hmm?”

Blaine blushes and Sebastian chuckles, kissing his cheeks. He pulls back a little and straddles his thighs again, Blaine reaching forward to stroke his cock as he rips the packet opened. He groans, soft pants leaving his lips, fucking forward a little into Blaine’s touch as he takes the condom out.

He watches Sebastian slide the condom on with ease and practice, chewing on his lower lip as Sebastian eases him back against the pillows, spreading his legs. He likes that he doesn’t have to tell Sebastian to ready him quickly, while he enjoys foreplay, his cock is _throbbing._ He needs him soon or he’s going to lose it.

He groans as he works him open with one and then two fingers, his back arching to help him work his hips down into it, thighs spread as far as they’ll go. Sebastian teases his entrance with the tip of his cock, making Blaine fuck down against him and practically _whine_ with want.

“Tease.” Blaine grounds out, gritting his teeth as the other smirks before sliding in, slowly, all at once.

Sebastian bends his knees and works Blaine’s legs to sit on top of his shoulders, angling him so he can drive in deep. He lets out strangled breaths, waiting for him to give him the go ahead before he moves. His cock feels heavy and hot on his stomach and he barely has to nod his head for Sebastian to start fucking his hips forward.

He’s touched that Sebastian controls his thrusts, that he’s trying to maximize both of their pleasure by respecting Blaine and starting slow, but there’s a white hot heat building in the bottom of Blaine’s belly, almost boring a hole into him.

“Faster, Sebastian,” He isn’t beyond begging a bit now, a whimper falling from his lips as his cock brushes a bundle of nerves. “Fuck, _please_.”

He follows that command easily and Blaine’s close all over again in a matter of minutes. He groans, tries to warn him as his orgasm approaches by squeezeing all the nerves in his body. But Sebastian can tell just from how his body is tensing and drives him towards the edge.

Blaine cums hard, body squeezing his cock, Sebastian’s orgasm not far behind. His fingernails dig into Sebastian’s sides, leaving small red crescent moons in their wake. His hips stop moving and he slides his legs off his shoulders, his body slumping into Blaine’s against the mattress.

Sebastian huffs out a small laugh, his head ending up under his chin as Blaine makes a small noise of protest when his cock slides out of him. He adjusts to the emptiness, closing his eyes as he regulates his breathing, his hand coming up to cup the back of Sebastian’s head and stroke his hair.

“So…do you usually thank people with sex, I’m just curious.” He quips, mimicking his statement earlier in the kitchen.

Blaine just laughs, tickling his sides gently. “Shut up.”

000

They fall asleep after cleaning up, the TV on in Blaine’s bedroom playing an old black and white movie that neither of them really recognize. They don’t watch much of the film anyways; the air around them filled with static electricity as their bodies mold together, as their lips map out kisses on skin, and memorize one another’s mouths. They talk and laugh, and for once Blaine feels like everything is falling into place, he feels whole, he feels warm and safe—something he hadn’t realized was missing until he felt it.

Blaine wakes to the mattress moving, scrunches his nose as he opens his eyes. He looks up at Sebastian standing beside the bed, his boxer briefs hanging low on his hip bones. He almost smirks at the hickey right above the bone. Almost.

“Seb?” He asks, his voice cracking from sleep. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” He whispers, motioning to move over in bed. Blaine does so with tired and heavy limbs, a yawn slipping from his lips. Sebastian crawls back under the covers, instantly tangling their legs together and wrapping an arm around Blaine’s waist as he shifts close. “Was just getting a glass of water.”

He sighs, the silence blanketing over both of them, the only sounds coming from the low volume of the TV. He should really turn it off but he can’t find the strength to pull himself out of Sebastian’s arms to do so. Blaine lets out a soft breath; the air bouncing off of the other’s skin and brushing back over his face. He tucks his lips and nose into his neck, breathes in the scent of his skin, his eyes fluttering closed a moment.

Sebastian runs his fingers through Blaine’s curls, his head dipping to press a kiss to his hairline, the shorter relaxing into his muscles and bones at the sensation. He notices something over his shoulder, a photograph on his nightstand. The little boy has to be Blaine, with bright hazel eyes and a wild mess of mopped curls on his head. He’s sitting on a woman’s lap; she’s on a porch in a white rocking chair, her long wavy brown hair blowing to her right from the wind.

“Who’s that?” He asks, toying with one of Blaine’s curls between his fingers.

Blaine turns to lie on his back, his head tilting to look at what Sebastian’s referring to. He reaches for the photo and picks it up, the television creating a light blue and gray glow across the frame. He runs his thumb over the side of the woman’s face before sitting it down on the nightstand again.

“My mother.” Blaine says softly, shifts down in bed and closer to Sebastian’s body, like that’s even possible at this point. The taller tugs the sheets up so that they cover his chest, his hand resting on Blaine’s stomach. “She died when I was little.”

Sebastian glances at the photograph before he looks back at Blaine, his hand rubbing his stomach absentmindedly. “I knew those curls had to come from somewhere.” The ends of Blaine’s mouth twitches softly in an almost smile. “How did she die?”

“Breast cancer.” He clears his throat. “It’s okay.” Blaine says before Sebastian can say anything. He doesn’t want his apologies, or his pity, but that line sounds rehearsed from the number of times he’s had to say it to others and to himself.

“It’s okay if it’s not.” Sebastian offers instead, his green eyes falling to his hazel ones as Blaine turns his head to look at him.

Blaine doesn’t say anything, just swallows and nods his head. Sebastian gently pulls on his arm, folding him into his chest, his chin resting on his head as he tucks his face into his shoulder. He lets his hand travel up and down his spine, memorizes the way as his breath evens out against his skin.

He stares at the photograph a long time, at little Blaine on her lap, happy, carefree. He feels a heavy weight drop from his sternum into his stomach as he turns the TV off and finally drifts to sleep.

000

Blaine lets out a soft sigh as the sunlight pours into his window, shining on his face. He runs a hand over his eyes, trying to block the light for a few moments more before feeling the bed next to him. He expects his palm to eventually come into contact with a warm body—but nothing greets him except cold sheets.

He frowns, finally opening his eyes. He sits up a little as he realizes he’s alone in bed, looking around his room and out the double doors that reveal his living room and kitchen.

Both empty.

“Sebastian?” He calls out, but gets no reply. He tilts his head to look into his bathroom and swallows thickly as he realizes that Sebastian’s gone.

He’s left him like he does all his other conquests.

He’s alone.

000

Blaine doesn’t see Sebastian for a week; it’s quite obvious that he’s trying to avoid a conversation. _Him._ But he’s not giving up that easily. He deserves so much more than a guy sneaking out of his bed after a night like that. He deserves an explanation.

His brain is telling his heart, ‘I told you so’, that he never should have gotten involved with someone like Sebastian. Even being friends with him would have led to this very moment, to heartbreak. He thought he knew someone that he didn’t know at all. He’s never felt so ashamed because not only had he let him into his bed; he had let him into his heart.

And even though he’s _furious_ and hurt, Sebastian’s still there in the corner of chest, the guy he thought he was. He thought he’d been foolish before, falling for Kurt who loved his dreams more than he loved him. But no. He was a _fool_ for falling in love with a guy who didn’t even exist in the first place.

Blaine had fallen in love with who he thought Sebastian was; who he thought he _could_ be.

What he hadn’t thought would happen in the week of not seeing him, mixed between the anger and hurt and betrayal is that he actually _misses_ him.

They had grown close to one another, regardless if he wants to admit that to himself now or not. He misses the way the heat of his body would press into his back, or the way his skin smelled, his bruising kisses, the way he could make him laugh until it hurt. He misses that sarcastic smirk and that soft smile or the way his fingers felt tugging his curls.

And he hates himself for that.

Blaine throws his satchel over his shoulder, his camera stuffed inside. He’s had a plan to take more shots of the Andy Warhol Bridge for the Wood Street Gallery for a while now and he thinks that it might be just what he needs to take his mind off everything.

That is, until he closes and locks his door and feels someone behind him. He recognizes him before even having to look. He clears his throat and stuffs his key in his pocket. “If you’re here to hide in my apartment, the answer is no.”

Sebastian hesitates before saying, “You know that’s not why I’m here.”

Blaine actually laughs before turning around to look at him, crossing his arms over his chest. “No I can’t honestly say I know _why_ you’re standing here right now, Sebastian. I mean. You were just using me for my place right?” He asks, his voice nearly shaking with anger. He’s just glad it’s not tears.

He wants to continue; adding on that Sebastian finally got what he was waiting for, for him to give in to fooling around with him so why come to him now? But Blaine had wanted that night just as much as him and he knows Sebastian gave him plenty of times to push him away. To say no.

He should have.

“Go hide somewhere else.” He says, moving to walk past Sebastian.

The taller tries to block his path, “Blaine, _please_ —”

The pleading in his voice reminds him too much of that night, too much of the way Sebastian felt inside of him, filling him up, driving his orgasm over the edge, the way he felt in his arms afterwards, his lips on his neck, fingers touching and pressing into his skin—

“Fuck _off_ Sebastian,” Blaine snaps, slapping his hands away. “I mean it.”

He pushes past him and down the stairs out of the apartment complex, Sebastian doesn’t follow him. He’s not sure whether he’s more relieved or disappointed by that fact.

000

He wants to get some photos of the Warhol Bridge from down below, angling his camera upwards before getting some far away shots. It’s a great plan but he ends up sitting down by the river for the past twenty minutes, just thinking, his camera lingering between his fingers.

Blaine thinks about his mother even though he tries to push the thoughts out of his head. He doesn’t remember a lot about her. He can see her smile only because he has a photograph of it, he remembers that she smelled like cookies sometimes and sunflowers when she was outside. She hadn’t gotten the chance to know him as he grew up, wouldn’t know the man he turned out to be. She had no idea that he would turn out to be gay, Blaine hadn’t known either until he figured it out with the help of Cooper when he was fifteen. But he knew, instinctively, that she would have been proud of him.

That she would have loved him no matter _who_ hedecided to love.

And even though she would never be able to help him through his breakups or give him advice, he for some reason knew what she’d probably say about Sebastian. Because deep down, Blaine knew why Sebastian kept running away from people.

Why he hid in his apartment so many times to avoid the morning routine.

He sighs, running a hand over his face as a few stubborn tears cling to his eyelashes, sniffling before he decides he needs to get a handle on himself. He didn’t come down here to think about his mother, he has a project to do.

 Blaine stands and puts the strap of his camera around the back of his neck, removing the lens cap before he fixes the camera on the bridge. He’s always been fond of old fashioned photography, of developing his own film. There’s something lost with a digital camera, of uploading photos onto a computer and fixing them with Photoshop, something he can’t explain.

 He snaps a few photos of the metal stitchwork under the bridge, adjusting the lens when he needs to do get a clear picture. He tilts his head up and keeps snapping, pausing at certain frames to take one or two extra. He can always go through the photos and pick the best ones later.

His camera sweeps across the bridge, picks up people walking across enjoying the day, some joggers and teenagers, a homeless guy with a sign. Blaine frowns, does a double take…and sharpens the lens to make the image clearer.

It’s not a homeless man. It’s _Sebastian_ with a poster board between his hands. It’s nearly the expanse of his arms and he lowers his camera a moment to look at the bridge. He knows that Sebastian can see him, of course he can, he had known all about his plans to retake photos of this bridge.

He swallows thickly before picking his camera back up to look through the lens, adjusting it until the image is clear and he can read the sign. In big black and bold letters it reads, **I’m sorry. I do stupid shit when I’m scared.**

Blaine sighs and shakes his head, stuffing his camera back into his bag before making his way back up towards the bridge.

000

“So let me get this straight,” Blaine says as he walks towards Sebastian on the bridge, the sign falling to his feet. “You’re sorry for sleeping with me or for walking out on me. Or both.”

Sebastian sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s not used to seeing him like this, so torn between keeping his feet grounded and running. He’s lost that usual smirk, that way about him, his confidence wavering.

“You know I don’t regret sleeping with you.”

Blaine actually laughs, but it sounds bitter. Broken. “Oh no, of course not. That’s all you were after right? Since day one?”

He licks his lips. “Okay fine, I deserve that but…that’s not all I wanted from you.”

“Right. I forgot my apartment.” Blaine counters, crossing his arms over himself like that will protect him from his conversation. From him. But Sebastian is already burrowed inside his chest where he doesn’t want him, it’s too late. And deep down, he knows that.

“Would you stop?” Sebastian asks, his voice sharp, frustrated. He lets out a short breath, composing himself before continuing. “I said I’m sorry. Leaving you was a mistake, I-I was—”

“Scared.” Blaine finishes for him, as if it’s simple. “I got it.”

“Don’t act like I’m using it as some sort of excuse, Blaine.” Sebastian shakes his head, stepping on his sign as he walks up to him. Blaine steels himself, forces to stay still and not back away.

People pass them sometimes on the walkway, cars zip down and up the bridge, in and out of the city but Blaine holds Sebastian’s gaze.

“What do you think _you_ were when you agreed to that deal?” He accuses, the action feeling sour in Blaine’s throat. “You thought you wouldn’t be able to get over Kurt without a little help.”

“Who are _you_ to lecture me about what I should do to get over my ex-boyfriend when you sleep with a different person every night!’ Blaine yells, his anger peaking.

“Yeah,” Sebastian argues, his voice just as loud, just as stressed. “That was _until_ I met you.”

He swallows thickly, Sebastian breathing a bit ragged from his outburst as he shakes his head. Blaine turns away, running his hands over his face, body trembling as he forces himself _not_ to do something stupid like cry in front of him. There’s a few moments of silence between them before Sebastian approaches him again, he can feel the heat of his body against his back, caressing him like an old forgotten friend.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, he can hear the sincerity in his voice, the guilt that’s resting on his tongue between his words. “When you showed me that photo of you and your mom and…and the way you _talked_ about her—“ He sighs and Blaine finally turns to look at him, a tear making its way down his cheek. 

“I was scared.”

“Of the _dreaded_ morning routine?” Blaine scoffs, wiping the tear track with the back of his hand. He sniffles, his cheeks flushing pink.

“Of how I _felt_ with you in my arms.” Sebastian corrects, reaching out to cup Blaine’s cheek. He runs his thumb over his cheekbone, catching another tear that’s caught on his bottom eyelashes. “I was so worried that I’d end up just being another asshole to you that I turned into the biggest asshole of all.”

Blaine shakes his head, dipping his chin forward so that Sebastian’s palm brushes over his lips. He closes his eyes, kisses the skin. He allows him to draw him into his chest, his hands rubbing up and down his back, sneaking under his shirt to feel the skin over his spine. Blaine breathes out shakily, is afraid to take air into his lungs, to breathe in his scent like Sebastian might disappear again.

“I promise I won’t leave you again.” He says, squeezes him. “I promise.”

Blaine rests their foreheads together as he pulls back a little, concentrates on how it feels to be in Sebastian’s arms again, can not only hear the promise in his voice but feels it in the muscles of his arms as they wrap around him. As they hold him.

He looks up at him, brushes their lips together, kissing softly. “Is that all you’re going to promise?” He asks, a hint of a smile. “What about a promise to not drink all of my coffee again.”

“That I can’t promise.” Sebastian smirks, tugging him forward into a kiss.

000

“How many boxes of kitchen supplies can one person own?” Blaine grumbles as he carries in another box into his apartment, setting it down on the kitchen counter.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Sebastian calls from the bedroom. “You have two drawers worth of bowties. I’m allowed to have my pans and spatulas.” Blaine chuckles, opening a box to peek inside.

Sebastian scoops him into a hug from behind, causing a surprised squeak to come out of his mouth. He loops his arms around his waist, his chin falling to his shoulder.

“Besides, I won’t hear you complain when I use the things in said boxes to make you a killer breakfast in bed.”

Blaine grins, turns his head to kiss him on the lips. “I like pancakes.”

“I like _you_.” Sebastian whispers, nipping at his lower lip.

He smirks, “Pancakes should be a done deal then.”

He rests his arms against Sebastian’s on his midsection as he looks over his apartment, his living room filled with a cityscape of Sebastian’s boxes. He runs his thumb over his skin, absentmindedly, his head falling back onto the other’s shoulder.

“Think you’ll miss your space?” He asks softly.

Sebastian is quiet a moment before Blaine can feel him smile against his neck, tickling his skin.

“Hmm, doubt it. I don’t know if you’ve heard,” He whispers along the shell of his ear, goosebumps prickling under Blaine’s skin, causing warmth to flood into his belly and _lower._ “But the guy in 6B has an amazing ass. And his coffee isn’t half bad either.”


End file.
